


A Blinding Light

by suiqune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Dark!Harry, More tags to be added as things come up, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suiqune/pseuds/suiqune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a Dark or Light Lord isn't just a title - it's a calling, a path a wizard can choose to walk to take up the mantle of duty to magic. Through no fault of his own, Harry Potter has walked one such path, and wizardkind everywhere will know the repercussions of the mistakes that great men are wont to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burningchaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/gifts).



> No underage relationship will take place in this work of fiction, although there will be much platonic touching due to the magic inherent between a Dark Lord and his followers. I added the underage tag for safety reasons only.
> 
> Also, special thanks to [Saydria Wolfe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SaydriaWolfe) for giving me advice that is letting me you know, actually write instead of staring at a page in frustration.
> 
> And I'm going to apologize to you again, B. You know I love you <3

Harry flushed with shame at the pity and disgust filled look Madam Malkin gave Dudley’s castoffs. He tugged ineffectually at the too big shirt and ducked his head to hide his flush as he followed her to the back of the shop. There was a boy with pale blond hair already back there, getting fitted by another witch. Harry only got a fleeting glimpse of the boy, of a pointed chin and light blue eyes. He ducked his head down as Madam Malkin flicked her wand and a robe wrapped itself around him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the blond boy opening his mouth. He didn't know what the boy was going to say because before he could make a sound a woman with the same pale hair and grey eyes cut him off. Harry thought it was probably his mother.

“Draco,” the woman snapped, and Harry winced in sympathy at the tone. It reminded him uncomfortably of Aunt Petunia, even if the blonde woman didn’t sound as mean. The boy looked chagrined, which led Harry to guess that whatever he had been about to say hadn’t been nice. Harry blushed harder.

“Your first time in the Alley?” the woman asked. Harry gave a short nod as Madam Malkin switched the first robe for a second, small flicks of her wand changing the fit. The woman nodded decisively, giving Harry a long look over. “Perhaps a complete wardrobe, Galina? The Scottish weather is so hard on non-wizarding fabrics.”

“Yes, yes I do agree Lady Malfoy. Carys, when you’re doing with the young master Malfoy, start pulling fabric for a deluxe kit, would you?”

“Yes ma’am,” the golden haired young woman said, flashing Harry a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted in a jiff.”

And they did. Less than fifteen minutes later that Harry had a full set of clothing - robes, trousers, shirts, even new pants. Madam Malkin had dressed in one of his new outfits, dark grey trousers and a white button down, with a black open faced robe over it. It was surprisingly comfortable, not too hot. It must have had something to do with the charms he’d heard them saying all the clothes came with.

It was just Harry and Lady Malfoy in the shop now, barring Madam Malkin and her assistant. Draco's mother had sent him off to see his father about Occlumency books when he finished.

“I’m surprised to see you here without your guardian, Mr. Potter,” Lady Malfoy said. She pressed the silver ring on her hand into a dip on the counter, Harry guessed to pay, since he didn't see any money. Harry stiffened, his hands flying to his fringe, which still covered his scar.

“No, it’s alright. Your secret is safe. I only recognized you because you’re a spitting image of your father. We went to school together.”

Harry immediately calmed, and he perked up. “You knew my parents?”

“Yes. I could hardly avoid it, even if we weren’t in the same house. Your mother broke records on every test she took, and your father was a notorious prankster. Your father and I were cousins, too, so we grew up together. I’m afraid I didn’t know your mother nearly as well, but my husband Lucius was Head Boy and had more contact with her, since she was a prefect.” Lady Malfoy smiled down at him. “And you should call me Narcissa, since we’re cousins as well.”

“Narcissa,” Harry breathed out. “I didn’t know I had any cousins. Well, except for Dudley.”

“Dudley?” Narcissa asked, steering him out of the shop. His purchases were in spelled bags, shrunk down small enough to fit in his pockets.

“Yeah...wait,” he said in alarm, turning around. “I didn’t pay!”

“I took care of it. It’s your birthday, isn’t it? I have lots of birthdays to make up for, since this is the first time I’ve gotten you a present.”

“A present? For me?” Harry blushed when Narcissa looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I mean, thank you, Narcissa. No one’s ever gotten me a present before.”

Harry felt a cold sensation dip down into his bones, and something in him surged up to prickle like fire under his skin in response. Without thinking or even knowing why, he reached out and grabbed Narcissa’s hand.

“It’s alright,” he said, squeezing her hand.

The icy sensation faded almost immediately, and he smiled up at her as Narcissa squeezed his hand back.

“Well,” Narcissa said, tangling their fingers together. “We should finish your shopping. Can you tell me who you’re here with?”

“Er, Hagrid. He’s the Keeper-” Harry started, but Narcissa finished for him.

“-of the Keys at Hogwarts, yes, I remember him. Quite a love for magical creatures, no matter how big or dangerous they were. Not that he isn’t a nice man, but why aren’t you here with your guardians?”

“They’re Muggles,” Harry said, dropping his eyes again. “And they hate magic. They only let me come with Hagrid because he scared them.”

“Harry!” Hagrid boomed, hurrying over two ice cream cones in his hands. “What’r’ya doin’?”

Harry snapped his eyes up and stared at Hagrid in confusion. “Doing?”

Hagrid’s eyes flicked from Harry to Narcissa and then to their joined hands. “With, er, Missus Malfoy, tha’ is Harry.”

Harry frowned. For some reason Hagrid calling Narcissa Missus instead of Lady bothered him. “Narcissa bought me my clothes as a present. Did you know she’s my cousin?”

Hagrid looked taken aback. He scratched his head, almost spilling one of the ice creams. “Well, I guess she would be, then. Your da’s mum was a Black afore she married your grandfather. I never thought about tha’. Oh, this is for you, Harry. Chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts. I had to guess.”

Harry smiled and took the cone from him. “Thanks, Hagrid. I love chocolate.”

“What do you still need to get, Harry?” Narcissa asked, and when he looked at her she was smiling down at him.

“Er, Missus, I mean Lady Malfoy, we don’ want ta trouble you…” Hagrid said, looking uncomfortable.

“Nonsense. As I told Harry, I have lots of birthdays to make up for. Besides, we’re family. If his own mother can’t be here to take him around the alley its the least I can do, considering what she’s done for us. What do you still need, Harry?”

Harry followed Narcissa when she started walking, eating his ice cream. “I've only got my robes so far so...everything else?”

Narcissa made a thoughtful humming noise. “Your wand next, I think. That way you can practice weightless and shrinking charms on your purchases.”

Hagrid trailed after them like a large and confused puppy.

 

* * *

 

They finished around mid-afternoon, much faster than Harry had expected. Narcissa had been well received in each store, having the shop keepers fetch the things he would need while she explained what they were for.

Well, except for the wand shop. The proprietor, Ollivander, had been extremely disconcerting. He’d rattled of what Harry couldn’t help but consider personal information about his cousin for everyone to hear. Then he’d made some rude comments to Hagrid, who Harry liked rather a lot despite the fact that he didn’t seem to like his new cousin before finally turning his attention to Harry.

He’d almost decided the wand wasn’t worth it. He was pretty certain that Narcissa could have found him one somewhere else if he had asked.

They’d gone through a lot of wands. Ollivander must have measured him going on a dozen times and each time Harry felt worse. The only thing that kept him from fleeing the shop was Narcissa’s hand in his. The man had honestly seemed pleased with how long it was taking until he’d handed him a wand with a bit of ceremony (holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches) and Harry had practically thrown it in his haste to get it out of his hand. The thing had burned, sending seeking fingers into his magic that felt black and oily. If he’d been able to, he’d have set the thing on fire, but Ollivander had snatched it up from the floor and hidden it away. He’d been much less pleased after that.

Harry had finally matched with a pale wand made of aspen eleven inches long, with a heartstring from a peruvian vipertooth, the dragon species most closely related to snakes, as the core. When Harry had given it a wave, instead of lighting a set of boxes on fire or causing a minor flood, golden and emerald sparks had rained out of it. The wand hadn’t bent in his hands like some of the others, and Ollivander had pronounced its flexibility ‘stiff’ with a pronounced frown and a sniff. Harry had no idea what to make of that either.

Narcissa and Hagrid had both smiled at him though.

He’d even gotten a present from Hagrid after all the shopping was done, which he hadn’t been expected. Not only because of the fact that he’d never had presents before, but because Hagrid had clearly been uncomfortable around Narcissa. But his owl was beautiful, and despite the utility of his new wardrobe (and the fact that it got him out of Dudley’s clothes) he vastly preferred his new friend.

Actually, when he thought about it, he had three friends now, which was three more than he’d had yesterday, or ever. At least he liked to think that Narcissa was his friend. She hadn’t treated him like any of the other adults he’d ever dealt with. And she was family too, which made it even better.

Hagrid had insisted that they part ways so he could return Harry home, and Narcissa hadn’t protested. Harry had bid her goodbye sadly, but she had promised to write and told him to write her too. By the time Hagrid had him bundled onto the strange bus that was apparently going to take them both back to his relatives house, Harry realized she’d spent the whole day with him and not her son and he hadn’t gotten the chance to ask why.


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa tried to still the trembling in her hands but found it quite beyond her. That she’d held it together for so long spoke more to being the the presence of a burgeoning Lord more than her own fortitude. Only keeping in psychical contact with his magic had let her hold on as long as she had. And he would have been upset and hurt to see such behaviour from her - the boy was so obviously fragile that it was only the fact that his escort would have immediately contacted Dumbledore that had stopped her from whisking him away to the manor.

She smoothed down her hair and dress in a nervous gesture then turned on her heel and set off to find her husband and child. Draco, for all his virtues, was a demanding child and she couldn’t answer any of the questions he was sure to ask in public. They’d have to go home  _ now _ and finish any shopping left later, possibly with the help of the house elves. Narcissa wasn’t sure if she will be able to make herself leave the house in the foreseeable future on the off chance she might miss a letter from Harry. An irrational sentiment, but considering the circumstances not one she was willing to fight.

She strode briskly down the alley, family magic leading her unerringly to her husband and son. They were in the apothecary, debating the merits of buying more advanced potion ingredients so as to not tax Severus’s own during Draco’s weekend lessons.

Lucius looked up as she entered the shop, the ringing of the bell and her agitated magic drawing his attention. He opened his mouth, probably to reprimand her for even such a mild loss of control in public, but stopped at the sight of her face.

She was pale, she knew. The shock to her magic of the knowledge she had gained and the feel of Lord’s magic brushing against her own turned her normally porcelain complexion ashen. His own expression froze in response, the hand he’d had hovering near a shelf coming to grip their son’s shoulder tightly.

“Time to go, Draco,” he said, sparing her the trial of speaking. Thanks be the Gods, Draco knew better than to argue with that tone of voice.

Narcissa turned on her heel and headed to the public Floo point, unwilling to trust Apparition. A sickle’s worth of powder turned the largest fire green and sent them spiralling home.

“Why did we have to leave?” Draco whined as soon as the soot was spelled from their robes and his father had let go of his shoulder.

Lucius angled a look at her.

“To your room, Draco. An elf will fetch you for supper,” she said, proud that her voice did not tremble. Lucius had a steadying hand on her arm, for which she was grateful.

“But-,” he started, but stopped when she narrowed her eyes.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” she said softly, and he went.

As soon as he was up the stairs, Lucius led her to their shared study. He didn’t speak, but put her gently in her favorite chair and poured her a glass of Knotgrass Mead. He sat opposite her and let her drink it before he spoke.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dear one,” he told her softly, leaning forward to take her free hand. She squeezed his fingers and shut her eyes for a moment to fortify herself.

“While Draco was getting his robes, a boy came he. He was small - at first I thought he was a child who had gotten lost, but he asked for Hogwarts robes. He was dressed...badly. Worn muggle clothes  _ much _ too big for him, and you know how Draco gets. The boy was already upset enough about what he was wearing.”

She took a breath and opened her eyes.

“It was the hair. The Potters have always had messy hair, it’s practically a part of their family magic. And James’s boy has it in spades.”

She kept her eyes steady on her husband’s. His own had widened in shock and his hand tightened to the point of pain around hers. It was grounding.

“I couldn’t let him leave with nothing to wear but those… _ rags _ , so I commissioned him a wardrobe. When I told him it was a birthday gift, he told me….he said he had never gotten one before that he could remember. I was shocked, so shocked that I lost control of my magic, and he. He was holding my hand when it happened and he felt it. He felt it and he  _ washed it away _ .”

She ignored her husband’s gasp. Lord’s magic was unique and unmistakable. It was also supposedly impossible to achieve before you had lived three decades or more.

“He had no idea what he had done, of course,” she continued, eyes now on the fire. It danced in response to their magic. “I couldn’t leave him after that. I could barely let the keeper Dumbledore saddled him with take him home. Lucius, what kind of life must an eleven year old must have lived to become a Lord?”   


There is no possibility of the boy being a Light Lord and they both knew it. Such required a Trial of love, the joys shared with a lover or a child, and no eleven year old could have experienced such things and remained pure enough to stand in the Light. And the Trials of a Dark Lord…well. By all rights, no eleven year old should have been able to pass those, either. Under traditional circumstances, it was impossible. 

But Harry Potter had already done the impossible once before he had turned two. By that measure, spending the next nine years passing the Dark Trials was both completely horrifying and distinctly possible.

It was a blessing, she knew, when a Lord took their place among the people. Something to be rejoiced. In the old days, a feast of dizzying proportions would be thrown in the streets of the alley, and everyone would come, Light and Dark both.

“Dumbledore swore before the Wizengamot that Harry Potter was cared for. He swore on his  _ magic _ . He swore to us all that no one could find him and that no followers of the Dark Lord could do him harm.”

“I know,” she agreed. “But cared for can mean many things. And this time, it did not mean  _ safe _ .”

“I can’t leave the house,” she continued crisply. “You’ll have to take Draco out tomorrow and finish his shopping. Buy him a new broom to make up for today, for the winter holidays. In fact, buy two - we can have him bring Harry home with him. The boy has never been on a broom before and it’ll do him good to get some practice in. He’ll want to try out for the house team next year.”

“Narcissa,” he said softly. Gently.

There were tears on her face. She had no idea when she started crying. She pulled her hand from his and turned away, brushing them from her cheeks.

She ignored him, staring blankly into the flames. Just as she ignored the agitated movement of her magic and the trembling of her hands as she waited for Harry Potter to write her a letter.

**Author's Note:**

> Narcissa Malfoy is played by the lovely [Gwyneth Paltrow](http://hdwallpapersbin.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Gwyneth-Paltrow-Wallpapers.jpg). I've never agreed with who they cast as Narcissa, and while she was AMAZING she just didn't fit with how I always viewed Narcissa at all.


End file.
